


Heart-Shaped Bed

by insominia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barebacking, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Creampie, Dean Winchester Has Self-Esteem Issues, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Only One Bed, Oral Sex, Pining, Porn Star Gabriel (Supernatural), Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Quarantine & Chill (Supernatural), team switch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24717298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insominia/pseuds/insominia
Summary: Granted, it isn't the best time to take a cross-country trip with the US under threat of an imminent pandemic. But Castiel had looked so sad, as his best friend (who is totally not in love with him) what else could Dean do?Thankfully, when the Shelter-in-Place order comes, Castiel's brother offers them his currently empty apartment to ride out the lockdown in.There is only one bed.Andwhat a bed.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 36
Kudos: 245
Collections: ProfoundBond Exchange: Quarantine & Chill





	Heart-Shaped Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [olivebranchesandredwine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivebranchesandredwine/gifts).



> HAPPY PB: FIC EXCHANGE DAY EVERYONE!
> 
> Especially DocOlive! I had so so much fun writing this, I hope it makes you smile!  
> Huge thanks to the beautiful, the marvellous, the fantabulous [MaggieMaybe160](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggieMaybe160/pseuds/MaggieMaybe160) for hashing it out with me and making it readable! 
> 
> If you're on Discord, are over 18, like Destiel and communities that are amazing and wonderful then you should totally join us!

* * *

It starts, as does everything of import in Dean Winchester’s life, with Cas. Specifically, with Cas looking between his phone and his laptop, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he chewed it almost nervously. For his part, Dean wished he wouldn’t do that, it inevitably drew Dean’s attention to Cas’ lips, which in turn led to Dean thinking about what he’d like to _do_ to Cas’ lips which was never a safe train of thought to follow. What Dean would like to do to Cas’ lips would give way to what he’d like to do to Cas’ neck, his chest, those hip bones he can’t help but spy when Cas walks around with just a towel after a shower and... _yeah._ It’s distracting.

“What’s up?” Dean had asked, putting aside the coursebook he hadn’t been reading, seeing as he had a perfect view from his bed of Cas’ profile sitting at the desk, ostensibly doing his own work, even though Dean knew he didn’t have any assignments due.

Cas hadn’t looked up at him, this time running a hand through his hair (another dangerous thing to do in Dean’s eyes) giving a quiet _‘hmpf’_ of frustration as his answer.

“What?”

“It’s...it’s nothing,” Cas had sighed, clearly thinking better of whatever he’d been deciding and closing the laptop. He didn’t look happy though, so of course, Dean had pushed it. “Just a rare astronomical phenomenon that I won’t be able to see,” he’d eventually admitted glumly. Dean hadn’t said anything to that, instead he’d settled himself at the end of the bed, looking at Cas pointedly until the guy broke and told him everything.

Not that Dean quite understood _everything_ . He didn’t understand half the words uttered from Cas’ beautiful lips. Eta Aquariids, Conjunction, Superior Planets meant nothing to Dean, though he couldn’t help but smile at how animated Cas got talking about them. At times like that, Dean couldn’t help but remember the gorgeous dorky guy who stepped into their shared room on the first day of term having given more thought to transporting his telescope than the non-essentials like...clothes. Dean could still remember how distraught Cas was to learn that there was nowhere on campus, nowhere anywhere _near_ campus in fact, where he could set up and stargaze; there was simply too much light pollution. Dean remembered the pout on his lips and thinking how wonderful it would be to lean in and kiss it away; instead, he’d offered to drive Cas wherever he’d needed to go to be able to view the stars. An offer Cas had taken up many times.

 _Many times_.

And not just at night either. Contrary to popular belief, stargazing was often done best in the pre-dawn light. Dean had learned that the hard way. Not that Dean minded. 

Cas’ eyes were never more beautiful than when they burned with the light of a hundred stars. In his more poetical moments Dean likened him to an angel his eyes turned heavenward as though searching for his home. It was the only way one could explain such perfection. 

“Cas, hey, mechanical engineer remember? Not an astrophysicist. Layman’s terms, okay?”

With a sigh, Cas had started again. “There’s a rare conjunction of-” He caught Dean’s eye and stopped before he had gone too far. “Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn will be passing close to the earth and to each other at the same time as a meteor shower.” 

“Sounds neat.” Dean had shrugged. “When is it?”

“Not for a few weeks yet. I won’t be able to see it from here and I’d like to see it properly, so I was thinking of heading out to California...”

Dean had chosen that particularly inopportune moment to take a swig from the bottle of soda beside his bed and the resulting snort had seen him dribble most of it down his chin and onto his shirt. “California? That’s...that’s a bit of a trek.”

Cas had made a, ‘ _hm_ ’ in the back of his throat which showed that he wasn’t actually bothered about the distance. “Gabriel says I can stay at his place. He’s not too far from the National Park and I’ve always wanted to stargaze there. I was thinking this would be the perfect opportunity, especially as Gabriel won’t actually be there to annoy the hell out of me. But...” Then came the lip biting again. He glanced at Dean’s television that had been set up where both of them could see it since day one. It hadn’t been on at that time, but Dean had figured out what he was referring to fairly quickly. After all, it had been the same thing on the news for weeks now.

It wasn’t exactly the best time to be planning a trip. 

But Dean, stupid, moronic, utterly gone on his best friend and had been since about five minutes after they’d met, Dean, in a move that proved him to be every inch the idiot his brother was always accusing him of being, had offered to drive them regardless. 

Cas had protested; it was too far, Dean was being ridiculous, they could hardly justify travelling such a distance at the best of times, let alone at a time when things seemed so uncertain. But if nothing came of the big _it_ , Dean had argued, then Cas would have missed his chance to see something that he obviously wanted to, in a place he’d always wanted to visit. And what kind of best friend in the world would Dean be if he let an opportunity like that pass him by? 

After determining that Dean was sure, really sure, no, really _really_ sure, Cas had agreed. Dean figured it was worth driving cross-country just to see Cas smile like that.

They at least made it to California before the world seemed to go to hell. 

Which is how it had come to this. Standing in Gabriel’s surprisingly large studio apartment staring at the bed. It’s just the one room, kitchenette, lounge area and...the bed. 

It’s not the biggest surprise in the world that Cas’ brother only has one bed.

But what a bed. 

Just a few minutes earlier, Dean and Cas had been laughing about how lucky they were to at least be able to have free reign of Gabriel’s place even if it wasn’t ideal. They’d at least have a roof over their head to ride out whatever might come. They’d found the key where Gabriel had left it, initially gone to the wrong floor of the building but figured it out quickly enough. Let themselves in and...well...they’d yet to look away from the bed. 

“I’m not sleeping in that,” Dean says even though he would naturally offer to take the sofa. But he feels like it’s important to put it out there straight off the bat. 

Cas stares at it, terrified. “I’m not entirely sure I won’t catch something if I sleep in it.”

Dean’s heard of heart-shaped beds before, he’s even seen them on some really poorly-scripted porn films, but he’s never seen one in person. Until this moment he hadn’t realised this was something he was grateful for. The rest of the apartment is nice; all clean lines, white counters with black tops and then...a monstrosity of a bed (complete with heart shaped headboards, naturally) draped in so much red velvet Dean can’t help but wonder if Gabriel picked it up from a second-rate brothel. Or at least, the dumpster behind a second-rate brothel. 

“Does he...sleep in that thing?” Dean asks, wondering how on earth a normal human being could function in their day to day lives, watching tv and cooking dinner while _that_ stared at them from the corner of the room which it seems to dominate. 

Cas winces, “I don’t think I’d want to know what Gabriel does in...that thing.”

“Well...I mean we’ve gotta get some supplies if we’re gonna hunker down, you think we should get new sheets while we’re at it?” Dean asks as Cas steps over to the bed, a braver man than Dean, and runs his hand over the comforter as though to confirm that yes, it is velvet and yes, it is the tackiest thing Cas has ever touched. Dean wants to wash his hands by association alone. 

“I think in this instance fresh bedding absolutely counts as an essential item,” Cas sighs. 

Thankfully, their shopping trip is not as manic as Dean expects it to be. He can see that people are starting to panic and they pass several carts laden with toilet paper and pasta. He’s not sure why toilet paper specifically, but he doesn’t question it, focusing instead on his own cart. 

Between them, he and Cas managed to stock up on essentials that’ll see them through the next few weeks without going overboard. There’s only the two of them and seeing as they’ve been students for a couple of years now they’re used to making a little go a long way. At several points, Cas tells Dean how grateful he is for Dean’s culinary skills.

“You just want me for my pie,” Dean grins, throwing into the cart everything he’d need for several pie crusts.

“And your burgers,” Cas adds, his eyes lingering on Dean a little longer than necessary. Dean blushes and turns away, suddenly very interested in the price per pound of apples. 

They manage to find some bedsheets and Cas decides he’s going to just outright buy some new blankets, claiming he’d rather burn the velvet mess waiting for them at their temporary home. Dean doesn’t disagree. Personally, he’d be on board to help Cas burn the entire bed. Gabriel might consider that something of an overstep for people he’d allowed to stay in his home, but...the bed. 

By the time they get home and Dean has unpacked the groceries, noting that Gabriel has a relatively well-stocked store cupboard, the prospect of being stuck in someone else’s home for the time being isn’t as awful as it had been when they’d first considered it. Or at least it isn’t as awful a prospect for Dean. Cas has the new sheets unpacked but hasn’t gotten as far as actually doing anything with them, choosing instead to just stare at the bed. 

“Could you give me a hand, Dean?” he asks eventually. 

Dean doesn’t bother to swallow down the laugh that threatens to escape him and kicks a cupboard closed behind him as he crosses the room to help Cas. As soon as his fingers curl around the red velvet comforter he regrets it, pulling a face that makes Cas laugh at him. Naturally, Dean flips him off before his eyes fall on the side-table beside the bed.

“Dare you to look in the drawers,” he says with a sly grin at Cas who looks horrified at the mere prospect. 

“There isn’t enough money in the world to make that an enticing offer,” Cas grumbles, his eyes fixed on the task at hand and deliberately keeping his eyes away from the offending furniture as though it might disappear if he ignores it hard enough. 

Together they peel the covers off the bed and Dean pushes the mass of cushions and pillows onto the floor. When he looks up, Cas is holding the bedsheet out in front of himself, almost comically trying to figure out how to best cover the awkwardly shaped mattress in front of them. 

It takes them far too much effort to wrangle the sheet onto the bed, trying to fold it around corners and curves no bed should ever have. 

“Why does he even have this thing?” Dean grumbles, trying to find a way to tuck a square sheet around the circles of the heart without leaving creases in it. He does not succeed. “Why can’t he have a normal bed like a normal person?”

“We _are_ talking about Gabriel,” Cas points out, having given up on trying to make the bed look tidy and settling for just getting it covered. “I don’t think normal applies in his case.” Cas finishes the bed by throwing over the blankets he’d bought and kicking Gabriel’s velvet war-crimes into a cupboard. They’ll probably wash them before they leave but for now, neither Dean nor Cas want to be reminded of their existence; as though they can avoid it with the garish headboards staring down at them wherever they are in the room. 

Reluctantly, Cas throws the assortment of equally garish pillows onto the bed before he rolls his eyes and turns away from it, tapping Dean’s arm in thanks. As soon as he’s moved away from the bed, Dean’s curiosity gets the better of him and he opens the drawer Cas had refused to, his eyes almost popping out of his skull. 

“I don’t want to know!” Cas snaps when he realises what Dean is doing. 

Dean wants to close the drawer, he really does. But it’s like watching a car crash he can’t look away from. The sex toys, lubricant, and condoms are not a surprise. What else would he have expected from a drawer in proximity to a heart-shaped bed? But the sheer variety in length, size, type, _flavour..?_ Even by Dean’s non-closeted, sex-positive, ‘if it feels good do it’ standards there’s _a lot_. He closes the drawer and turns to find Cas glaring at him. 

“If you value your life you won’t ever tell me what you’ve seen in there.” 

Dean blinks owlishly, “I don’t think I could ever describe it,” he says honestly. “I think I need therapy.” 

“I can offer pizza,” Cas says, his phone already in his hand. “Figure we should treat ourselves while we still can.”

“Meatlovers?”

Cas frowns without looking up. “Is there any other kind of pizza?” 

Dean drops into the couch and realises it’s only a two-seater just before Cas sits down on the legs he is already stretching out. They fall into a familiar, comfortable silence as Cas orders the pizza and Dean flicks through Gabriel’s channels. If all else fails there’s always Netflix.

He finds something inoffensive to put on until the pizza arrives and goes to check his phone when he realises that Cas is looking at what little space exists between them strangely. 

“You alright there, Cas?” Dean asks, finding nothing when he looks himself. 

Cas frowns before he finally says, “You can’t sleep here, Dean.” Dean looks up, alarmed even though he knows Cas wouldn’t throw him out, let alone at a time like this. Cas holds his hands out gesturing to the couch. “This couch is way too small for you.” 

“It’s fine,” Dean says dismissively without really looking. He’s slept on small couches before. It’s no big deal even if Cas doesn’t look convinced. The pizza comes and they share it with some of Gabriel’s beer (it’s a lot fancier than anything they’d normally buy) while watching something they’ve watched a dozen times before so they can chat without missing anything. That’s the theory at least. 

Cas doesn’t chat, his eyes are half on the pizza, half on his phone as he scrolls through whatever the hell it is he uses when he decides what Godforsaken time he wants to wake Dean up in the morning. 

“I was thinking we could go tomorrow?” he says as though he’s actually had any kind of conversation with Dean and not left him to guess at what’s going on from the vague glances he’d caught of his phone screen. 

“Stargazing?” 

“The Eta Aquariids aren’t stars but yes. It’s not the ideal time,” Cas sighs and bites his lip again. Does he have to do it so often? Or is it just because Dean notices it that it seems so often? Either way, it doesn’t help. “We might not be able to see Mars at all but...I’d rather not wait given that it looks like it might be our last chance if things do go into lockdown.” 

Dean has always loved the way Cas refers to them as a _‘they’_ whenever they go stargazing as though Dean has any comprehension of the beauty above them. He’s always too transfixed by the beauty in front of him to notice. That said, he has to admit, the first time Cas pointed out Jupiter to him was pretty cool. And not just because Cas had leaned in close, his hands on Dean’s shoulders to do so. 

Dean asks the only question that really matters. “What time?” 

Phone still in hand, Cas thinks for a moment and Dean can’t look away. He’s staring into the middle distance, working backwards from the time the planets will be the most visible. Even when he’s doing something so mundane Dean finds him beautiful. 

“I’ll want to set up about four AM” He hesitates. “That’s if you don’t mind driving through the night?” 

Dean smiles at him even though he’s got half a slice of pizza on its way to obscuring it. “Cas, I never mind. It’s cool. Anything for you,” he says with a wink though he’s glad of the pizza in his mouth when he sees that Cas is smiling softly at him. At least if he’s got a mouthful of food he doesn’t have to deflect from the obvious emotion there. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says quietly, still looking at him fondly. 

Dean clears his throat awkwardly, suddenly very aware that they’re on a two seater couch and sitting so close together Dean can feel the warmth of Cas’ legs beside him. So he does the only thing he can think to do and make an asinine comment about the show they’re not watching. 

Good save, Winchester. Smooth.

Despite the fresh bedsheets, when the time comes, Cas still hesitates at the side of the bed. It distracts Dean from the fact that he cannot find a way to get comfortable on the couch. 

“It’s not going to bite, Cas,” Dean chuckles.

Cas’ eyes narrow a little but he doesn’t look away from the bed. “Would you swear to that in a court of law?” Dean laughs and eventually Cas straightens his shoulders and jumps into the bed as though he’s afraid if he waits much longer he’ll never get around to it. 

Dean stifles a snort behind his hand. “How is it?” 

There’s a moment of silence before Cas begrudgingly admits, “it’s...surprisingly comfortable.” 

“Ha! Great. G’night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean,” Cas whispers and is it Dean’s imagination or does he sound a little wistful? Probably not. He’s probably just tired. 

Dean puts it out of his mind and tries to focus on getting comfortable instead, which is easier said than done. Cas was right; the couch is way too small for Dean. He tries to lie flat, resting his legs over the arm of the chair, but they come up too high to be comfortable and his circulation protests almost immediately. So, he tries the reverse but that just means he’s more likely to break his neck than lose feeling in his legs. 

He puts himself on his side, trying to fold his legs into the small space. That’s somehow even more uncomfortable. He rolls over, curling himself into the back of the couch but that isn’t even worth the attempt. Dean turns back with a small huff. He’ll find a way. He’ll-

“Dean,” Cas calls his voice quiet but firm, “come to bed.” 

Dean’s throat has never gone so dry so fast in his life. His blood has never rushed South so quickly either. 

“What?” Dean squeaks, his voice way too high. He clears his throat and tries again. “Sorry...what?”

Cas sighs. “You’re not going to get comfortable, so unless you want to make up a bed using Gabriel’s sheets-” he pauses to let that particular distasteful thought sink in, “-just...get in here. There’s room.” 

Dean closes his eyes so tightly tears start to form. Then he snaps them open, expecting the whole thing to have been a brief but wonderful dream. 

“Dean?” Cas calls and Dean can hear him sit up a little in the bed. When Dean looks over, he instantly regrets it. Cas is propped up on one elbow, the bedcover bunched at his waist and though Dean has seen his bare chest before (he saw it just a minute ago when Cas got into the bed) there’s something different about seeing it like this. With Cas’ hair already mussed from the pillow as he cocks his head to gesture that Dean should join him. 

“I’ll be fine,” Dean rasps, knowing that wherever he sleeps he is not going to be fine. He tries to shift himself into a position that may not be comfortable but it might at least allow him to fall asleep when his shin cracks off the arm of the couch and he can’t stop the small yelp of pain escaping him. 

“Dean!” Cas snaps and Dean is already rolling off the couch. He’s lost this round. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming,” he says and flushes when he realises what he’s said. “I mean...I’ll join you...I’ll-” He can feel Cas’ eyes follow him and he’s glad that the darkness hides the blush he can feel burning in his cheeks. It doesn’t diminish when he’s actually in the bed. Just beside his head on the pillow beside him, far closer than he ever expected to be to Cas beyond dreams, Cas lets out a satisfied sigh and pulls the covers over them. 

Dean should have stayed on the sofa. 

Cas is right about one thing though; the bed is surprisingly comfortable even if it curves a little, forcing Dean’s body to lean into Cas. Cas leans towards him in kind but there is still enough space between them to protect their modesty.

There is too much space.

There is not enough space.

Dean rolls so that he’s at least not facing Cas. He slips his arm under the pillow to try and brace it but he freezes when his fingers touch something hard and smooth. He can’t help that he practically screams. He’s seen inside Gabriel’s sex drawer. He doesn’t know what’s under the pillow but he’s sure he doesn’t want to know. He’s not sure how it managed to remain given that they’d changed the sheets but he doesn’t care to know that either.

“Dean, are you alright?” Cas breathes, suddenly very close to him. So close Dean can count his eyelashes by the light in his eyes alone.

“There’s something...” he gestures to the pillow half afraid that something is going to jump out at them. Though whatever it is had felt disturbingly inanimate for a bed shaped like a heart. With a bravery Dean doesn’t expect, Cas reaches under the pillow and pulls out something shaped like an egg.

Oh God, no.

Shaped like an egg and has a wire...

Gross. Gross. _Gross._

“It’s a remote control,” Cas says as though he’s just discovered a bomb.

Remote control? Of course it is. Why would it not be? _Ew!_

“The bed has buttons?” Cas groans. “Why does the bed have buttons? Why does a bed _need_ buttons?!” He takes a breath and it’s clear the question is rhetorical. He slides the remote to where he found it. “It’s okay, Dean. It’s nothing sinister. Good night.”

Cas lies back down with relative ease but it takes Dean a few more minutes before he can do the same. Even when his head is back on the pillow, he finds he cannot relax. Not totally. He figures he can feel the remote under his head even though he knows it isn’t. His fingers itch with curiosity but he needs to be mature. He needs to ignore the warmth of Cas through the covers and fall asleep. He needs to-

The bed starts vibrating softly as his finger inevitably pushes one of the buttons. Beside him, Cas isn’t even surprised and he huffs out a, “ _Dean_ ,” as though he knew this was coming. His eyes aren’t even open but he knows Dean isn’t going to stop until he presses every button, however much the results may scar them.

Under the pillow, Dean clicks the same button and the bed vibrates harder. One more click and it shakes harder still before the fourth click turns it off. Cas sighs as though he’s relieved and Dean wonders if Cas would mind him availing himself of the feature he hasn’t seen on a bed since that one motel room with ‘magic fingers’.

He clicks the next button along and flinches in surprise when soft music that must have been composed for a really bad seventies porno flick starts playing from speakers that are apparently concealed within the headboard. This time when Dean clicks it a second time the music doesn’t change but there’s a faint whirring sound from above them. A moment later the room is bathed in a steady rotating glow cast by an honest-to-God disco ball that has descended from above them.

“Dean,” Cas says, almost impatient.

Dean clicks the music and the disco ball off. But...there’s only one more button…

Cas can obviously hear him considering it. “Dean, if you’re going to press it, press it now so we can get it over with and go to sleep.”

Well that sounded like permission _and_ a request.

Dean feels his way to the third button and presses it. The whirring this time is noticeably closer and Dean realises that there is in fact a panel in the velvet encrusted headboard. A panel which slides away to reveal a screen onto which pops a moustached waiter carrying a small platter.

“I’ve got the kielbasa you ordered,” he says in what Dean supposes is meant to be a sexy drawl.

“What?” Cas snaps, sitting up abruptly. His eyes take a moment to adjust and when he realises where the sound is coming from he practically falls out of the bed. “Turn it off. _Turn it off!_ ”

Dean fumbles with the remote as he tries to turn it off. He manages to cut it just as the waiter disappears under a woman, already groaning excessively. The panel returns to obscure the screen but Cas looks traumatised.

“That is more of Gabriel than I ever wanted to see,” he groans, rubbing his eyes as though he can banish the memory.

“Wait- That’s Gabriel? Gabriel is in Casa Erotica 13?” Dean isn’t impressed. He isn’t impressed. This is gross. Okay, he’s a little impressed. He opens his mouth to say something else but Cas’ finger finds his lips and shushes him before he can think about it.

“I don’t want to know how you can recognise a porn film my brother apparently starred in from one scene alone. Let’s never speak of this again, can we please go to sleep?”

Dean leaves the remote where it is though he still thinks he can feel it through the pillow. He wants to roll over so he isn’t facing Cas but it’s like the bed was specifically designed to push them together. Well...it probably was. When Dean settles into the most comfortable position, he’s on his side looking right at Cas who faces him in an identical position though his eyes are closed. Cas has apparently fallen asleep with far greater ease than Dean expects to.

He lets his eyes close and tries to level his breathing out. If he pretends to be asleep, eventually sleep will take him. But soon his eyes are open again, taking in every inch of Cas beside him even though he is illuminated only by the dim glow filtering in from the streetlights outside. It’s not much but to Dean it is everything.

Cas looks so peaceful when he sleeps. His default expression is usually a frown except around Dean that is. With Dean, he’s always laughing, always smiling. It’s not that he’s miserable otherwise but...no one makes him laugh like Dean. It’s something Dean has always treasured in the small part of his heart where he allows himself to think about Cas like that. Along with the way Cas looks up at the stars as if he can see something wondrous that no one else sees. The way he always groans at the first bite of the burgers Dean makes. The way he always makes sure to ask after Sam and knows Dean’s brother’s schedule better than Dean knows his own.

Dean listens to the steady rhythm of Cas’ breathing and hopes it might lull him to sleep, but instead, he just finds himself watching. If he falls asleep looking at Cas maybe he’ll be lucky and dream of him.

It’s all rhetorical.

He dreams of Cas often.

Even like this Cas is breathtaking.

Dean can’t help himself. He’s never been this close to Cas before and he’s been plenty close to Cas in the past. Without so much as a rustle of the covers he reaches out and lets his fingers lightly card through Cas’ hair. It is every bit as soft as Dean has imagined it to be. The thought makes him smile but the realisation that he’s made a terrible mistake has him pulling his hand back as though scalded. He shouldn’t have- He really shouldn’t have. Cas is sleeping and now Dean knows what his hair feels like against his skin. Now he knows what it would feel like to tangle his fingers into that hair and how it would feel beneath him. And Cas…

...is looking right at him. His eyes wide with surprise.

“Cas!” Dean hisses. Maybe there’s another button. One that will detach Dean’s side of the bed and catapult it from the room. Maybe there is a hole he can crawl into where he can curl into a ball and die.

He does not expect the fingers on his face nor the way he freezes at the touch. Cas’ rests his fingertips gently against Dean’s jawline, tracing where it meets his cheek and Dean is convinced he’s dreaming. So is Cas if his expression is anything to go by.

“Dean,” he whispers and it’s a little hesitant. His voice shakes on the one syllable but he does not withdraw his touch. Then there’s the slightest of huffs and he sighs. “I’m dreaming.”

Everything within Dean screeches to a halt. His brain stops functioning, his blood stops pumping, his heart misses several beats and his breath freezes.

Is this what Cas dreams about?

Why would Cas dream about this? About Dean?

Dean brings his hand to cover Cas’ holding it against his face. “You’re not dreaming, Cas.”

“Oh,” Cas breathes. “Are you sure?”

It’s the late hour and the proximity to Cas which means he’s not considering what he says. That’s what Dean will claim to his dying day as he murmurs, “if you’re dreaming...I’m dreaming too.”

He curls Cas’ fingers into his palm and moves them to his lips so he can leave a lingering kiss there and _there_.

He’s done it.

His cards are well and truly on the table. He’s potentially ruined their friendship, has probably established himself as a creep, and there’s no way Cas is going to want him to stay in the same room as him let alone the same bed and-

Cas whimpers. A brief strangled sound that trails into what sounds like half a sob before his fingers are back on Dean’s cheek, cupping his face and holding him there so he can lean in and press their lips together.

“Dean,” he mumbles, bringing his other hand up to hold Dean’s shoulder, holding him tightly as though he fears Dean is about to disappear. As though this is still a dream.

But Cas is kissing him. Cas’ lips are soft and a little dry and the taste of mint toothpaste lingers a little but he is kissing him. And Dean is kissing him back. He didn’t even notice he was doing it. His brain is still offline though his heart has jumpstarted itself and is now hammering its way to a coronary episode.

Cas is kissing him.

“No,” Dean sighs, pulling back suddenly, though he doesn’t pull away from Cas’ touch and his own hands are still wrapped around the arms in front of him. When had he even done that? “No...We can’t do this.”

He’s not sure what he expects Cas’ response to be but he certainly doesn’t expect him to nuzzle closer and whisper, “we really can.”

“That’s not what I mean-” Dean pauses for a moment and tries to think of the words even though Cas still feels wonderful in his arms and is returning the favour that started all this; trailing his fingers through Dean’s hair. “We just...we can’t, okay? I shouldn’t have...We can’t.”

“Do you not want to?”

He wants to. Oh he wants to. If it was just a question of _want_ then Dean would have made a move years ago and accepted the rebuff.

“Yeah but...” he takes a breath. This is veering dangerously close to talking about their feelings. At least when those feelings were bottled up where they belonged there was no chance of Cas walking away because of them. “If we do this then we...I-” He wants to say that they can’t go back. That if they do this Dean will never be able to look at Cas again without remembering this night. He’d never be able to listen to him speak without knowing the noises that he made or watch him trying to tame his hair knowing how it felt to tug it and how hard he liked it to be tugged. “It’ll change things,” is what Dean settles on.

But Cas isn’t deterred. “What if I want to change things?”

Dean can’t help the huff that escapes him. “Don’t tease me.”

“If I was teasing you, you’d be begging me to take you,” Cas says as a matter of fact and there goes the blood rushing South again. _And_ he bites his lip. “I’m not teasing you, Dean. I-” he breaks off. His hand falls away from Dean’s face and Dean has never missed something so much that he aches for it before. “Never mind,” Cas sighs. “Good night, Dean.”

He sounds...disappointed. More than that, he sounds crushed. His voice is barely a whisper and he folds himself into the blankets as though he could make himself smaller.

But he didn’t...he couldn’t...could he?

“What were you going to say?” Dean asks. Dean begs.

“Never mind.”

But Dean is insistent. “No, really. Say it.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. Tell me.”

Cas huffs a sigh and meets Dean’s gaze full on. He’s biting his lip but for once Dean can’t look away from his eyes. “It’ll just change things.”

It feels like a defining moment.

He can step off the precipice or he can accept the dismissal, roll over and try to sleep. They’ll wake up in the morning and they’ll never speak of this again. But it feels like something has changed. The air has shifted. It is almost tense. Strained.

Desperate.

Dean steps off the precipice.

“What if I want to change things?”

Cas is as still as Dean was just a moment ago. Dean doesn’t want to move, he doesn’t want to breathe in case it scares him off. But then Cas just says it. He just straight up blurts it out.

“But I love you.”

And it feels like Dean can breathe again. He hadn’t realised the world had stopped on its axis until it started moving again at those words.

“Cas, I-” and he might as well say it. He’s been wanting to say it for years. “I love _you_ , Castiel.”

This time when they kiss it feels as though they’re drowning. Dean can’t take a breath but if this is how he dies then so be it. He’ll die happy. He’ll die more than happy. Cas’ lips aren’t as dry as they were before and even his face seems a little damp but he kisses Dean as though he needs him to live and Dean doesn’t want him to let up for a moment.

But he needs to know…

“Can I…?” he starts but breaks off because he doesn’t think there are words enough in the English language to even begin on what he wants to do to this man in his arms.

“Anything,” Cas breathes, pulling him back in for a kiss. “ _Everything._ I want everything with you, Dean. I love you,” he says again, this time punctuating it with a kiss on Dean’s nose for emphasis. Chaste compared to the way they had devoured each other just a moment ago.

Dean closes his eyes tight and takes a breath, forcing himself to calm down, forcing himself to slow the train of thoughts threatening to run away with him. Instead, he focuses on the warmth that seems to rush through his body.

Cas loves him.

 _Cas loves him_.

And Dean intends to show Cas how much he has loved him in return.

Dean pushes himself up on one elbow and gently pulls Cas beneath him. His fingers cup his face, stroke his cheek, comb through his hair and as he leans in for another kiss, Dean whispers against his lips. “I love you too, Cas,” before he takes his lips to Cas’ neck and looks for all the ways he can drive him mad.

With his lips at Cas’ throat he can feel Cas’ pulse hammering as fast as Dean’s seems to be. Dean doesn’t help matters by pressing his tongue to it. His teeth.

“Dean...” It slips out. Cas hadn’t meant to say it but his fingers tangle into Dean’s hair and he arches his back, already trying to cant his hips against friction that isn’t there. _Not yet_. Not when there is so much of Cas to explore.

He takes his time. He wants to know every inch of Cas’ body, wants to commit every sound, every taste to memory. If this is a dream (and there’s still a part of him that thinks it must be) Dean’s going to make it the best damned dream he’s ever had.

Cas’ chest is firm beneath his touch, his lips, and he takes a long while to explore those hips that have begged to be explored every time Cas’ shirt has ridden up. He feels like he could cut himself on them but that doesn’t stop Dean diving in, letting Cas chase his touch. He wants to know everything Cas likes. Everything that drives him crazy. But it might take a while. Right now Cas is mad for his touch, pulling him close and reaching for him with Dean’s name falling from his lips.

Dean hasn’t gone for Cas’ boxers yet even though he can see his hardness straining against them. He doesn’t avoid it though and as he kisses his way across Cas’ naval, he allows his chest to brush against him. Cas looks like he could come on the spot, his fingers tight in Dean’s hair and his voice lower than Dean has ever heard it.

“Cas,” Dean moans, finally letting his hands roam lower and palming his impressive length through the fabric of the boxers. It twitches against his palm and more than anything Dean wants to taste it.

So that’s exactly what he does. He pulls down Cas’ underwear, leaving it somewhere around his knees. Cas kicks them off with a series of uncoordinated, jerking movements. Dean lets him, allowing his breath to ghost over the head of Cas’ cock as it bobs between them. Dean wants to swallow him whole but he’s going to take his time. He leans in pressing soft kisses to the tip as Cas’ head rolls back against the pillows, his eyes closed tightly as though the sight of what Dean is doing to him is too much to bear.

“ _Oh. Dean!_ ”

The salty tang tastes bitterly sweet on Dean’s tongue as he moves from kisses to lapping at the slit. He runs his lips, his tongue down the length to the base and listens for every groan, every whimper that tells him what Cas wants him to do again.

Cas’ fingers are so tight in Dean’s hair he’s a breath away from doing damage but the pain is just the right amount to crest into pleasure. “Dean, _please_ ,” Cas gasps and Dean can’t hold out against such a request. He closes his mouth around the head letting Cas rock deeper until he’s flush against the back of Dean’s throat and Dean is trying to remember how to do this. He swallows around Cas and that is all Cas can stand, pulling him off sharply. Dean looks down on Cas’ heaving chest as he tries to bring himself back under control.

Dean did this to him.

Dean brought Cas to the very edge of bliss with tender kisses and a clever tongue. He watches Cas, almost in wonder as he calms himself. Then Cas pushes himself up and their lips clash together in a kiss that’s more teeth than anything else as Cas moans against him, “-too close. Not yet.”

Cas all but wrestles Dean to the place where he was a moment ago, returning the kisses and the touches but with a great deal more fervour. Cas is burning against him and Dean is happy to go up in flames. He’d been so focused on how good Cas felt beneath him Dean hadn’t realised he was nearly as hard as he was. It only takes a few well placed strokes through Dean’s flannel pants for him to realise how much he wants this. How much he needs this. Under Cas’ hand he feels like he’s never been touched before and surely he hasn’t been. No one has ever touched him like this. Like he is at once all too fragile but all too durable. Cas worships him even as he digs his fingers into his hips in a grip that will leave bruises come morning. Then the warmth of his mouth is returning the favour to Dean and Dean doesn’t recognise the noises that Cas rips from his chest.

Dean has never in fact been a particularly vocal lover, preferring his body to do the talking for him, but Cas is taking him apart and he can’t do anything but groan Cas’ name. He’s begging but he doesn’t know what for. Cas’ tongue is hot against his length pressing up and curling around him sinfully. He can’t stop the moans and whimpers as he forces his hips to keep still under Cas’ grip, letting Cas control the pace with that glorious mouth of his. Cas looks up, blue eyes lock with green and then Dean is babbling. Honest-to-God babbling and Cas reaches up, giving Dean his fingers which he sucks into his mouth desperately.

He could lose himself like this. With Cas’ silken heat humming around the length of him while his fingers thrust into Dean’s mouth, doing things to Dean’s tongue that not even Cas’ tongue had done. He feels like he’s going to float away. He’s died in the night and this is how he will meet his maker – with Cas’ name on his lips and Cas’ mouth on his cock.

The fingers are gone and Dean whimpers. He’s never whimpered before and he chases the air in front of him with his lips as though he can pull them back. But then they’re circling around the most private part of himself. Cas doesn’t push in, he just circles bringing delicious pressure against him. Dean wants more. So much more.

He wants everything. Just like Cas had said.

Cas’ mouth eases off him but his fingers keep him grounded, keeping him from drifting off the mortal plane and into new levels of bliss. Trailing kisses along his naval, Cas works his way up his chest, his neck, back to his lips, around his jaw to the shell of his ear. He hooks the lobe of Dean’s ear between his teeth and Dean discovers that he has a new kink or something because no one has ever done that but it is _heavenly_.

“Make love to me, Dean,” Cas whispers into his ear and Dean tries very hard not to come from that alone. “Please?”

Dean pulls back a little, just a little so he can look at Cas though the sight of him with lips full and flush from sucking Dean off is almost as much as he can take. He wants to ask if he’s sure but the part of his brain that forms words went offline when Cas said that he loved him.

Cas understands though. He sees the question and presses their foreheads together in a gesture that can only be described as _loving_. “I want to feel you.”

Still beyond words Dean manages to nod, unable to fathom why Cas should look like all his birthdays, Christmasses, and wet dreams have come at once. Cas leans in to kiss him and Dean uses the distraction to reach blindly over to the drawer that had scarred him for life but he knows there’s lube in there. There must be, surely. He feels his way to a bottle and pulls it out, bringing it to his eyes and he recognises the font and the shape; it’s lube. It’ll do.

Dean is on the verge of asking how Cas wants it but before he can, Cas just lies out on his stomach, kissing every part of Dean that he can on the way down.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Just because every single one of his dreams is coming true in the form of the deliciously naked Cas laying himself out for Dean’s delectation is no reason to lose his head as well as his heart.

He warms the lube in his hand as much as his patience can bear and then he moves in to cover Cas’ back with kisses as he allows his first finger to wander, teasing Cas’ rim, testing the waters. But Cas pushes back and practically swallows the finger with such ease, Dean can tell he’s done this before. Well- obviously he’s done this before but he’s done this _recently_.

“I thought of you,” Cas gasps out, bucking his hips as though he already has Dean’s cock. “It’s always you.”

Dean is too far gone for such things to make a difference now and he starts pressing with a second finger as he leans in and whispers into Cas’ ear. “You too.” It sounds a lot less poetic when he says it. “I think of you. Only you.”

It might not be poetry but it clearly does it for Cas. He lifts his head so he can lean against Dean, his hips canting back, inviting more. Dean wants to do so many things to this man. He wants to take it slow but how can he when Cas thrusts back so desperately, his back arched so beautifully.

He wants.

He wants so much.

“I’m ready,” Cas begs. He surely isn’t. Dean is three fingers deep into him, marvelling at the way Cas takes him, wondering how he will possibly be able to survive the sight of him taking his cock. His fingers still but Cas doesn’t let him pause. “I want to feel you. Make me feel it.”

He begs so prettily. Dean wants nothing more than to sink into him. He reaches into the drawer again trying to find a familiar foil packet.

Cas watches him for a moment before he realises what he’s doing.

“You don’t have to. I’m clean and I know you are. I saw your test results.”

It doesn’t surprise him that Cas saw the results, it’s not like Dean is particularly private about his mail. It does surprise him that Cas doesn’t know it’s a matter of habit than necessity. A remnant from his more wayward days of cheap motels and even cheaper diners. Those wayward days ended in a flash of blue the day that Dean met Cas. But it is the reminder of their lives together, the life they share, that grounds Dean.

He smiles softly at Cas and this time when he kisses him it is something sweet. Tender.

“I want to see you,” is Deans’ affirmation that they will do this Cas’ way. That he belongs entirely to Cas. It occurs to him that Cas doesn’t know that. Not yet anyway.

But he will.

Dean rolls him over. He doesn’t need the help but Dean will take any excuse to touch him. Cas tosses the pillows off the bed and draws Dean in for another kiss. It seems impossible that they didn’t kiss before now. It seems impossible that they didn’t know.

Even though their pace has slowed, the air still sparks between them. Cas pours the lube into Dean’s hand and helps him coat his aching cock which could find its release from Cas’ touch alone. But Dean can hold off when Cas looks so beautiful beneath him offering the promise of more. So much more.

Dean settles himself onto his knees, pulling Cas’ hips into his lap; the tip of his cock just teasing at Cas’ entrance, drawing pleading whimpers from Cas’ lips which Dean just has to swallow. They both groan, long and loud when Dean finally breaches him. Cas tries to pull him closer but Dean lets himself sink in increments. He slides in and pulls out, slides in and pulls out, revelling in the symphony of sounds Cas makes. Dean is careful, so careful Cas feels like he might break beneath him. But Dean goes slow, he adds lube, he makes sure that Cas can feel the stretch and from the way Cas scrabbles at his back it’s clear he’s enjoying it.

When Dean is fully seated, he drops his forehead to meet Cas’ as he kisses him. This time the kiss is filthy. He teases his tongue into Cas’ mouth, sucking at the lip that Cas has taunted him with so often and then when Cas is beyond himself, Dean rolls his hips and grinds into him.

Never in his wildest dreams had Cas looked so good beneath him. Even in the dim light Dean can see the sheen of sweat on his skin, the flush in his cheeks, the way he tries to keep his eyes on Dean but the sheer bliss of it forces them shut.

“You’re so beautiful, Cas,” Dean whispers. “’Always thought you were so beautiful.”

Cas cannot reply. Not in any way that isn’t a breathy sigh at least. The only thing on his lips is Dean, whether it’s his name or his kiss; it’s ‘ _Dean_.’

Dean is determined to draw this out. There’ll be other times he’s sure and he’s trying to keep his mind on the here and now rather than running away with fantasies of next time. With Cas propping himself up on his elbows so he can look Dean in the eye it’s easy to be grounded in the moment. Next time will be wonderful, but right now is perfect. Dean picks up the pace so slowly he doesn’t notice when it is that he starts thrusting rather than grinding, but Cas throws his head back and grips the headboard with one hand. The shift, however slight, alters the angle and on the next thrust Cas cries out in what sounds like ecstasy.

It’s almost too much for Dean. The tight, wet heat around him, the way Cas shouts his name as though he wants the stars themselves to be jealous. He all but devours Cas’ lips and wraps a hand around Cas’ straining cock, trying to stroke it in time with his thrusts but he doesn’t have the coordination for that right now.

“ _Dean. Oh Dean, please. Please. Yes. Dean-_ ” Cas babbles breathlessly but Dean can’t say anything. His entire world has zoned onto the man beneath him, the man looking at him as though Dean has given him something too precious for words. And then Cas’ back arches one last time and he all but screams Dean’s name as he spills over his stomach and Dean’s hand. Dean feels him clenching down around him and he knows he’s close.

He’s so close.

How can he not be when Cas looks like this?

Cas goes boneless beneath him, pulling Dean in for a long kiss, letting him use his body to chase his own release which is hardly far behind. “Fill me,” Cas whispers directly into Dean’s ear. “Let me feel you.”

It is enough for Dean to go from almost to right there in a heartbeat and his hips stutter as Cas pulls him in tight, holding him there and whispering what might be endearments into his ear. He can feel himself pumping into Cas. There are strong arms around him, but beyond that there is nothing but the waves of bliss crashing into him. He can’t breathe and he doesn’t want to breathe; he just wants to stay like this always. 

When Dean wakes, it is with a pleasant soreness in his limbs and the taste of Cas on his lips. He isn’t sure how often they woke in the night, but he can remember trading lazy kisses until they were too tired to lift their heads. He remembers sucking Cas down until Cas had almost cried from overstimulation but spilled into his throat regardless. He remembers Cas bending him over the bed and demanding his pleasure from fingers alone.

“ _Come for me, Dean. Come now._ ”

And Dean had. Many times. More times than he thought was possible but for as long as there was water on the nightstand and moments of rest tangled in each other’s arms; Dean knew he would never tire of Cas. How could he? He was perfect.

The bed is empty but Dean knows Cas won’t be far. He can feel it in his very being. That, and he can hear the low chatter of the television,so Cas is no doubt around somewhere. As though on cue, strong arms find their way around Dean’s waist and the bed dips under Cas’ weight.

There are lips pressed to Dean’s forehead and Dean smiles into the touch, chasing Cas’ kiss with his own.

“Bad news,” Cas whispers against him.

Dean freezes. His throat feels hoarse and his eyes are burning already even though Cas hasn’t said it yet. The fragile world they’d created the night before is already crashing down around him.

“Dean?” Cas asks in mild alarm, tipping Dean’s chin so he can look into his eyes. Dean looks away but the blue is burned into his vision. Cas’ arms are tight around him. Why does he have to make this so much harder? “It’s okay, Dean,” Cas insists, refusing to let him break away.

It’s not okay.

Dean would prefer it all to have been a wonderful dream than to wake up to Cas’ regret.

“We knew this was coming,” Cas whispers and Dean is convinced he’s going to cry.

Of course he’d known it was coming. What can Dean Winchester offer someone as perfect as Castiel Novak?

“But I’ve spoken to Gabriel-”

Okay, that’s a bit odd.

“-and he says we can stay here for as long as we need. It looks like the rest of the country will follow suit so it’s not like he’s going to surprise us by showing up.”

What does Gabriel have to do with any of this?

“-We’ve got enough supplies. We’ll be fine, Dean.”

“Wait...” Dean allows just a breath of space between them so he can scrub a hand over his face. He’s missed something. “Wait, what?”

Cas frowns but gestures towards the television where Dean can see a news channel running quietly in the background. “There’s a stay at home order for this state. We have to stay here...What bad news did you think I meant?”

Dean’s face flushes beet red and for a moment he can’t meet Cas’ eyes. “Nothing,” he mumbles, trying to get out of the bed. “So...breakfast?”

But Cas isn’t so easily put off and he pulls himself around so he can straddle Dean’s lap. Twenty-four hours ago Dean would have died to have been this close but now he just wants to get away.

“Tell me,” Cas insists, his blue eyes alight with mischief.

“It’s nothing.”

But then there are lips against his; slow, gentle and Dean knows he’s not getting away with this.

“Okay...I thought,” he huffs but this is harder than he thought it would be. It seems so stupid in the light of day. “I thought you were going to say last night was a mistake. “

The mischief in Cas’ eyes vanishes and he looks as though Dean has mortally wounded him. “ _What?_ ”

“It’s just...you’re amazing, Cas. You’re funny, you’re gorgeous, you’re smart and I love everything about you. I’m...I’m nothing special. So I figured you’d woken up and realised you could do better...” His voice trails off sounding smaller than he’d like.

Cas doesn’t say anything for a long time but Dean can’t look up at him to see why.

When he eventually speaks his voice sounds a little sad. “Do better? Do better than my gorgeous roommate who drives me wherever I need to go whenever I need to go there just so I can look at the stars? My incredibly sexy best friend who looks after me when I’m sick and makes me soup? The guy who always makes me laugh and makes the best burgers in the world..?” He forces Dean to look at him. “I never ever thought someone as wonderful as you would even look at me, otherwise I would have made my interest clear from day one.”

Dean feels warmth spread through him. It starts in his heart and bleeds into every part of his body.

“I told you I loved you, Dean. Please don’t think I’d say that lightly.”

“I love you too, Cas. I always thought you were way out of my league.” Dean blushes; it all seems so ridiculous now.

Cas rests his forehead against Dean’s, breathing him in. He’s gorgeous like this; holding Dean close as though he is too precious to be held. As though any minute now Dean will realise he doesn’t want this and leave Cas on the bed.

Which is exactly what Dean is waiting for Cas to do.

So maybe...if they both dropped that line of thinking then maybe...maybe they’ll be able to actually build something that won’t have them panicking at the first sign of trouble. It’s not like they have anywhere to go.

“Stay with me?” Dean asks and Cas gives a little scoff.

“It’s not like I can go anywhere, Dean.”

“No, I mean...” he wraps his arms around Cas’ waist, bringing their chests together as he kisses him deeply. “ _Stay with me_.”

When Dean pulls back, Cas’ eyes are still closed as though he’s savouring the feel of Dean’s lips against his. Eventually, he opens his eyes and touches Dean’s cheek reverently. “I’ll always be here to watch over you. Of course I’ll stay.”

There is more kissing and Dean can already feel Cas getting hard in his lap. Dean’s been hard since Cas straddled him though granted he’d lagged a little when he thought Cas was breaking up with him before they’d even started.

“Wait!” Dean says as the idea strikes him. “If we can’t go out, you can’t see your planets.”

Cas huffs a sigh as though he knows something that Dean doesn’t. “I’m not too worried about that. One of my favourite things about stargazing is the time we get to spend together.”

“Oh...” Dean can’t help but grin. It’s one of his favourite things about it too. “Wait...does that mean you’re not actually interested in the stars?”

Cas rolls his eyes even as he kisses the line of Dean’s jaw. “Yes, Dean. It was all a ruse. In fact, I specifically enrolled in an astronomy degree to get close to you. I’m glad I can finally give it all up; I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on the equipment for appearances sake alone.”

Dean laughs with him and the sound of them laughing together is probably the most wonderful sounds Dean’s ever heard. They’ve laughed at things before but not like this. Not _together_ like this.

They kiss for a while longer before Cas shifts so that he’s out of Dean’s lap and back on the monstrosity of Gabriel’s bed. Dean finds that he hates it a little less this morning.

Cas pulls Dean close to him, tentatively stroking his face, looking into the galaxy in Dean’s eyes. “It’s a shame I’ll miss the conjunction tonight,” he says but even as he says it, he’s smiling softly. “But, I have something infinitely more beautiful to look upon.”  
  
  
  



End file.
